A Galleon For Your Thoughts
by DiezeL
Summary: A love confession doesn't come cheap, which Harry finds out soon enough. One shot only.


**A/N: **I finished this awhile back but I had to get it through several beta-readers before I was finally satisfied with it. I'd like to thank MushyPeas and SheWhoHathAPen, and several other beta-readers, for their ideas and sharp eyes. Otherwise, this piece would have never been published.

Disclaimer: All HP stuff like characters, book, and move plots belong to JKR and WB. I lay no claims at all and even more so not making any money from this. Basically, this is just my own HP-flavored pizza.

**A Galleon For Your Thoughts**

The atmosphere was jovial and light-spirited. Everyone had a smile to share, a handshake to extend, a hug to accord, a kiss on the cheek to give. In a time of worry and anxiety brought on again by the Dark Lord, this was a semblance of peace among the chaos. This was the breath of fresh air that invigorated their souls and gave them hope and happiness, even if just for a short amount of time.

And above everyone else, he needed it the most.

He swept his gaze across the crowd, smiling timidly. He rarely felt as at ease as he did now, especially considering who he was. Someone like him was rarely afforded such serene ambiances and pleasures. He was highly deserving of it, but greatly deprived.

He reached up to his collar and pulled on it a bit. He had received plenty of compliments from the ladies about how dashing he looked in his new formal robes. They loved the effect the midnight blue robes had on his green eyes. It was enough to give his ego a boost in its otherwise sullen, deflated state.

After all, who wouldn't like to be called the handsomest man and most eligible bachelor of the evening? Then again, Ron would probably want to contest that.

He felt a presence move next to him and he looked to his right. His earlier timid smile broadened as he realized that his best friend, the witch with whom he had been secretly in love for the last two years, had joined his side. Now if he could only find the opportune moment to finally get that tidbit across to her.

"Enjoying yourself?" he asked.

"Quite so," she replied. "And you?"

"Hmm, with the prophecy hanging over me, Voldemort waiting in the shadows, and that horrible punch I've had to drink tonight, I'd have to say that I couldn't be better," he remarked. "Can't you tell?"

"Just forget about those things for tonight, Harry." Hermione lightly punched his arm. "Would it be too hard to just enjoy yourself?"

Harry chuckled. "I am, Hermione. Don't worry."

"Good. Then ask me for a dance."

"Huh?" Harry looked at her with a dumbfounded look on his face. "A dance?"

"Thanks for asking, Harry. I'll dance with you," she slipped an arm around his without waiting for his response. She then pulled him towards the dance floor where other students danced.

"Hermione, I…But I haven't even–" Harry began.

"Oh, hush, will you? It's just a dance Harry."

Harry clamped his mouth shut and cautiously slipped his arms around her while quickly stealing glances around him to see who might be looking. It wasn't because he hadn't danced with a girl before that he was being cautious. It was because everything he did lately that had somehow involved associating with the opposite sex seemed to have fallen under the sharp eyes of everyone else around him. Their unabashed fascination with him and his life granted him very little privacy. Frankly, it terrified him and worried him so much that he considered become a professional hermit after Hogwarts, just to get away from the unnerving interest.

Then again, Harry considered as he pulled Hermione close, he wouldn't mind them looking at the moment. He thought he had the prettiest witch in his arms, dancing with him right now. If she was the reason that he received stares of blatant curiosity, then so be it. At least, that's that what he tried to tell himself.

"Harry…" she said lightly.

"Hmm?"

"I know you're staring around," she whispered against his chin. "If I were your girlfriend, I'd suspect you were looking at other witches instead of paying attention to me."

"Er-- I'm not. I'm just gloating that I'm dancing with the prettiest witch in this ball tonight," he managed as he felt her breath against his chin. His girlfriend, eh? Brilliant concept, Hermione. Now if she would just put him out of his misery by actually becoming that.

"Thanks for the compliment, I think. However, I still refuse to finish the last two inches of your Potions essay for you."

Harry laughed. "You wound me to think that I'd expect that of you."

Hermione pulled slightly away to look up at him as they swayed to the music. "Oh? So that was a compliment with no ulterior motive then?"

Grinning mischievously, he replied, "Actually, I was thinking more about the four inches of writing left to do for Magical Creatures. So what do you say, Hermione? Will it help if I do the puppy eyes thing?"

She rolled her eyes at him. "You really know how to make a girl swoon, Harry."

"I've had enough practice," he replied.

"From Ron, no doubt."

"Oh but you're wrong, Hermione. In case you haven't noticed, Ron hasn't had much time to corrupt me lately. Luna's quite busy making an angel out of him. Or…something."

Hermione's eyebrows furrowed. "Then this…fiendishness…is all you? I'm appalled and suspicious. Where's Harry and what have you done with him?"

"Funny, ha ha," Harry retorted. "I think my father's traits have ceased to be idle now that I'm seventeen years old." And that punch, he would swear by it.

"Idle genes? Oh spare me, Harry. I very much doubt that you've had your mother's qualities defining your character for the last seven years you've known yourself to be a wizard." Hermione gave him a doubtful look. "I think I, along with several members of the Order, am hoping that your mother's genes take a dominance and push your father's genes into a…less active state. You've caused enough mischief to make the Marauders proud."

"Well I got my fantastic eyes from Mum," Harry said thoughtfully. "Very kind of my Dad to let me have Mum's eyes don't you think? It's certainly helped with the ladies."

"Your hair quite makes up for it," she retorted.

Harry "tsk"ed at her. "Now, now. The hair, along with my smoldering eyes, is an asset I've learned to be proud of."

"When did you become so full of yourself, Harry?" Hermione's lips curved.

"You bring out the best in me. I have you to thank for my lack of humility in the looks department," he said beaming wildly.

"You know…I'm starting to think that I ought to regret accepting your offer to dance. I had no idea how outlandish you could get," she rolled her eyes slightly at him.

Harry paused and looked her straight in the eyes for several moments.

Hermione's right eyebrow rose. "And what are you doing now? Are you tired already? We're not even halfway through the song."

He leaned dangerously close to her, his hovering lips just a mere two inches away from hers. "You are now falling under the spell of my gorgeous green eyes, Hermione Granger. My smoldering eyes and charming self are so irresistible to you that you couldn't refuse my invitation to dance. You think I am wonderful and I am the handsomest wizard at this ball right now, even more handsome than Ron…"

That did it for her.

In the middle of the dance floor, Hermione was unable to stop herself and just burst into laughter, which served to attract the stares of several couples who danced around them.

"Harry! That's the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard!" Hermione giggled heartily.

Harry's eyes narrowed slightly. "What? That I'm more handsome than Ron? Or that I'm irresistibly charming?"

Hermione clutched her sides and felt tears threatening to fall from her from her eyes. She just couldn't stop laughing at Harry's remarks. This had to be the most she had ever laughed in recent times. And surprisingly, George and Fred had nothing to do with it.

"And," Harry raised his right index finger, "Correction, my dear. I didn't ask you for a dance. You just took one from me." Take that, Miss Bookworm!

Hermione opened her mouth to contest his claim but, abruptly, closed it just as fast. Harry placed his finger on her lips. "Now…it seems that you have once again fallen under my charm. Shall we continue this dance or would you rather let yourself be bothered by the countless stares we're getting right now because of this very amusing fiasco?"

She smiled up at him and moved close to him again so he that he could slip his arms around her once more.

Harry felt his heart beating erratically. Every nerve of his body became ten times more sensitive when any part of him came in contact with her. And he had never been so audaciously flirtatious with a girl before. He surprised himself with how effortlessly he had done so with Hermione of all people.

It must be that punch's doing. It had some funny concoction in it that made him act so flamboyantly. Maybe that's why Hermione was so…responsive…and tolerant of his seemingly devilish behavior. She probably had a few glasses of it too.

Harry closed his eyes shut as he sensed Hermione moving closer against him. Soon, her head rested slightly against his right shoulder and her body pressed nearer to his. Over the wireless, Harry recognized the tune that had started to play. It was a Muggle song sung by a well-known British singer.

"I know this song…" he barely heard her speak.

"Surprised to hear it playing here, aren't you?"

"Yeah. But it's a good song. Very...romantic," she whispered.

Harry breathed in the scent of her hair. Her scent oddly reminded him of the spring season. "Is this all right? Dancing to this song?"

Hermione pulled away slightly. "Of course. Why wouldn't it be?" a small frown caused her forehead to crease. "Is it making you uncomfortable?"

He shook his head and pulled her back into his arms. "Not at all." He slid his arms more securely around her waist. He wasn't sure if this was proper or if it was too cozy, but frankly he didn't care at the moment. She was in his arms and that was all that mattered.

Harry caught his train of thought and braved a glance down at her. She surprised him when he found himself looking directly at the pools of her eyes. There was raw emotion coupled with guarded vulnerability in those brown eyes. Reddening, he quickly glanced up and around to distract himself as they danced.

Okay, Hermione had mattered to him for a while now. And with this his heart began to race once again. Hermione, he just now realized, was too close for comfort. And yet…her close proximity eased him and made him feel…

Complete.

His ears suddenly detected that the song was soon to end but his heart persisted. Why now? Why just when he was getting settled with the feel of her in his arms.

"Harry? The song's over."

Harry blinked several times. "Oh. Yeah it is."

Quickly, he looked to his left and right. He dropped his arms abruptly as he saw the stares they were attracting. "Sorry."

Hermione cocked an eyebrow at him and appeared ready to say something when she stopped herself. As she turned away from him, Harry saw that look again. The look of hinted emotion and guarded vulnerability again.

"Hermione. Wait."

Hermione stopped and looked at him directly. "Yes?"

"I…You…Are you thirsty? Do you want another glass of punch?" Stupid, stupid Harry. This was why he didn't have a girlfriend to call his own. This was why he couldn't tell her how he felt about her. This was why he would ruin a perfectly good moment to make a move.

He always found an excuse.

Stupid punch.

Hermione allowed Harry to lead her to the refreshment table. She regretted that their dance was over but couldn't find a suitable excuse to maintain it. Two dances were more than enough. Besides, judging from the looks they received, she was sure that a third dance would bring about an entirely new batch of speculation about them.

Sighing, she wondered how he was able to maintain this thing called a friendship between them. She was getting tired of wearing that 'best friend' face all the time. It took a bit of her willpower to keep it up. Hermione just wished that the daft wizard would get a clue already and reciprocate her tumultuous feelings.

The unflappable Hermione Granger hated that he could do this to her nerves without trying hard. Not even the occasional bickering could compare. Tension with Ron, her arse. She just wanted to strangle Ron sometimes for being the ruddy git that he could be.

"Hermione? Don't like the punch?" Harry's voice disrupted her thoughts.

"Punch? Oh, no. It was fine. I was just thinking of something else."

"A sickle for your thoughts then?"

She smiled. "Try a Galleon and I might give you a hint."

"A Galleon!?! What insidious thought are you having that it's that expensive?"

Hermione sipped her drink. "Not quite 'insidious', as you put it. Do you even know what that means? Anyway, chalk it up to inflation." She laughed at his dazed expression. "Well, will you put up, Harry?"

Harry blinked. "No thanks. I'm a bit stingy. And a whole lot of sweets from Honeydukes are probably worth more."

Hermione swatted his arm. "Oh you! You really do know how to make a girl feel special. Maybe this is why you haven't got a girlfriend yet. You're afraid to spend any money on her."

"Oh but I'm not. I just…haven't asked the right girl yet." Hermione saw him glance quickly at the dance floor. She wondered if he looked at anyone in particular. Before she could pursue the matter, she felt his left hand grasp her right hand.

"Hermione. Dance with me again?"

The surprise invitation made her wonder if he wanted to really dance with her. "So…you're actually asking me for a dance now?"

Harry turned to face her and gave her a bright smile. Then she saw it in his eyes. That hint of mischief coupled with sincerity as her eyes met his. It was mesmerizing because it made her feel wanted, wanted by him.

Nodding slightly, she soon found herself in his arms again. The feeling was getting a bit too familiar to her. He made it so easy to feel comfortable in his embrace. It was getting a bit too addicting for her own good.

Lost in thought, she failed to register that the room had suddenly darkened substantially and a new song, a ballad that many lovers knew, had started to play. The dancing crowd had thinned and the only pairs of people who stayed on the dance floor were actual couples.

Harry looked around nervously at the suddenly dark environment. Now was as good as time as any, his heart told him. It was dark, the song was perfect, and everyone else was occupied with his or her own significant other. As rare as it was, no one was paying attention to him.

'Whoo boy! What in bloody Merlin are you waiting for?' he swore he heard the voice of his deceased godfather tell him.

'I'm waiting for the perfect moment.'

'Sod that! If you keep 'waiting' as you put it, we'd be here centuries, Harry.'

'Oh do shut up.' Harry shook his head clear of doubt and Sirius's egging on attempts. "Hermione…" he called her softly.

"Hmm?"

As soon as she raised her eyes to him, he dipped his head down and captured her lips in the gentlest of kisses. He caressed her lips slowly, in tune with the chorus of the song that played. This was as perfect a moment could be. No sense in wasting it just because the stupid butterflies in his stomach wouldn't stop fluttering their wings about.

Finally he pulled away from her to see what response he might receive for his unanticipated action. What he saw, however, was something that surprised him back.

Harry expected shock, perhaps even a barrage of reprimands, a string of awkward utterings, or maybe even a hex to repel him (which worried him the most). He expected her to at least question, to ponder, to analyze his doing. He expected her to even turn away from him and flee from the dance floor.

But, by Merlin, he didn't expect to see her eyes reflect the same emotion he was experiencing. There was surprise, yes, but there was a hint of acceptance too. There was confusion but there was expectation as well. There was fear but there was also excitement alight in her eyes.

"I…Herm–"

Hermione surprisingly leaned up on her tiptoes, pulled his head down, and planted a bold kiss on his lips, a tentative brushing at first as if to discern its reality, then an aggressive caress that he couldn't help but reciprocate.

But before they could really enjoy the moment, it was soon over as quickly they both became aware that the lights had come back to life. Gone was the song that they danced to and only the faint gasps and murmurings from the people around them could be heard. They didn't have to look around to know that everybody's eyes were fixed on them.

"We need to talk."

Hermione shuddered slightly as she heard him speak. The words carried a sense of doom or of calamity, like an impending, unwanted precursor to an ending or finality. And Hermione didn't like that. She didn't want 'it' to end. At least, not yet.

"Not here, Harry. Outside. Away from the prying eyes and ears of everyone else," she responded as she avoided his gaze.

"All right." He led her outside the ballroom, to a secluded veranda which she knew was situated to give visiting lovers some privacy.

Lovers.

The word had heavy implications and brought ponderings worthy of another psychology study, Hermione decided. What exactly classified a couple as lovers? Was it a shared kiss or two? A profession of love that was beyond that of kinship? An act of passion unbound and almost manic in nature? Or the simple unified beating of two hearts to the same tune of affection, passion, and ardor?

Hermione walked toward the railing and gazed down at the grounds beneath them. Below them, the usually luscious and green grounds of the castle were asleep. Looking a little farther into the horizons before her, the lake was in a similar state as its resident Giant Squid. The Whomping Willow wasn't too far behind as it seemed oddly tamed under the star-studded sky.

"You're looking for answers, aren't you?"

She smiled, her back still to him. "Am I so easy to read? Or does that come from the many years you've known me?"

He walked to her right side and gazed at the same horizon she watched. "The latter, I suppose."

"Are you going to be apologetic now because of what happened in there?" she asked tentatively.

"For kissing you? The risks of getting hexed aren't appealing to me, so, naturally I say no, I'm not sorry for kissing you."

She liked his answer but still felt a bit reserved.

"However, threats of hexing aside, I still would have kissed you."

The air of tension and anxiety between them lightened a bit at his explanation. He afforded her heart some relief with such a confession but her analytical side wanted him to say why, to explain, to tell her more. So she did what was inexplicably natural to her. She questioned. "Why?"

For a moment, she thought that he didn't hear her because no response came from him. Then suddenly, Harry walked to the railing and grasped her right hand, tugging at it so she turned slightly to face him.

"I love you," he said as he let out a breath. "And before you question what I mean by that, I'll tell you now that the nature of my feelings are similar to what a man would feel for a woman that he'd want to spend the rest of his life with. I am utterly in love with you in that sense."

"I…" she felt him squeeze her hand lightly. "You didn't…You never really showed those feelings before, Harry."

"Then Snape ought to be proud of me. Occlumency has done wonders for me," he chuckled.

She couldn't find anything to say to that, so silence familiarized itself between them.

Harry watched her carefully before he spoke again. "Was that a bit forward for your tastes or your wits?"

Hermione smiled and turned to face him completely. "Quite. You've rendered me incapable of coherent thought. Frankly, I'm not sure what to say."

"Five points to me for making you speechless," he joked as he moved closer to her. "A Galleon for that thought, then?"

If she wasn't certain of his sincerity earlier, she was now. Even though it was a lighthearted attempt to make her laugh, she suspected that he only perused because he had a hint of how she felt about him. How tempted she was to just tell him now, if only to reassure him. But the moment she looked into his eyes, Hermione knew that the only one who needed reassurance was her. Harry already knew.

"Harry…"

"Shhh... I won't beg for you to say it but it would be nice to hear it." Harry leaned his face down closer to hers. "It's been bottled long enough, don't you think?"

Uncertainty nagged at her mind once again. She wanted to tell him, to finally unburden her heart, to finally get past being just a best friend, and accept what he was offering. But for the life of her, she couldn't.

Harry searched her eyes and recognized the turmoil that clouded them. He saw the fear of yesterday, today, and tomorrow hold her back. He knew her well enough to know that she was considering the worth of her confession compared to their strong friendship.

Slowly, he let her hand drop then he reached into his robe pocket. He drew something out, something shiny and round. He then took her hand again and placed the object on her palm. "Will this help?"

Hermione felt tears forming in her eyes as she discerned the object he bestowed upon her. The round, shiny object in the middle of her hand was probably the silliest thing he could give her but she didn't care. It was all the convincing she would need.

She tilted her head upwards to meet his brilliantly green eyes and smiled brightly, her hand closing possessively on his present. She reached up and embraced him tightly in her arms.

"I love you too, Harry."

_Five days later…_

Ron stared at it and still wondered why Hermione had done such a thing. He was sure everyone who saw it wondered that as well. She offered no explanation when asked and only beamed like it was the best present she ever received.

If Ron didn't know any better, he suspected that she slept, ate, and maybe even bathed with that thing. Finally, he couldn't take it anymore and just decided to ask her directly. And he wasn't going to take a smile for an answer.

"Okay Hermione, I give up," he said as he lowered his fork on the table. "Why do you have that thing hanging around your neck? Everywhere you go, you have it with you. Is it imbibed with magic?"

Hermione blushed as she turned sheepishly to Harry who seemed to have taken the same shade of red.

"No. It's more important than that. It was payment for a very valuable thought."

Ron raised an eyebrow and considered her response. Realizing that she wouldn't give him any answer better than that, he finally gave up and picked up his fork again to resume eating his breakfast. He, however, kept a sharp eye on his two best friends.

Hermione lightly fingered the shiny Galleon that hung on a gold thin chain around her neck. Underneath the table, she lightly squeezed Harry's hand and gave him a brief sideways glance and a faint smile.

Ron, who almost missed the clandestine exchange, smirked and leaned forward on the table. "Merlin! It's bloody well about time!" he exclaimed.

-Finis

**Belated A/N:** Writing is under way for IYB 7


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